An Unexpected Adventure (a Kili/Fili love story) ***ON HOLD

Chapter One: Flashbacks

Chapter One: Flashbacks

Brynn's POV

I pressed my back against the trunk of the looming oak tree. My breathing was soft and steady- which was surprising considering the current situation. Quietly, I notched an arrow to my bowstring, trying in vain to keep my composure.

I could hear the Orc scouts as they whispered to one another, tramping across the new blades of grass and kicking up the dead, fallen leaves. I cursed them under my breath. This was my forest! My forest! And I was not about to let this scum destroy my home!

I peeked around the corner of the tree trunk, brushing my cheek against the coarse bark in the process. I winced softly, feeling the tenderness along my jawline. There were five scouts.

I could kill two before they would know what hit them. But the other three... it would be a wonder if I ever was able to defeat them. They stood at a higher advantage: towering over my slim four foot six height. I was respectably tall for a woman of my kind- but then again, I was very short for my kind.

My grandmother was an Elf from deep in the realm of Mirkwood; however, not much is known about her; not much is known about anyone in my family. After the attack on Erebor, nearly sixty years ago, almost all my kin had vanished. I was only a child then, but I remember.

I remember playing with several of the young Princes then. One was fair-haired, and the other had dark raven-colored locks. The flaxen-haired boy was older than us at the time, always trying to keep us out of trouble. The dark-haired boy and I were always getting into trouble and causing a fuss, but the fair-haired lad always got us out of it. We ran around, giggling and laughing in the way. Dwarven children do. We were still considered children then; at the age of seventeen. For Dwarves, do not mature to adulthood until our fiftieth birthday.

We had been near the gates that fateful day when we heard the horns from Dale, and the word dragon screamed from the walls. I remember searing flames torrenting down from above. I recall the scent of sulfur and smoke. So many people were yelling and screaming as they made their way out of the courtyards and deeper into the Halls.

The armored guards ran to the walls in an attempt to brace the gates, but I knew even then that it would not hold.

The flaxen-haired boy took the dark-haired child and me by our hands and pulled us away from the crumbling ceiling and toward the Royal Quarters. The halls stood in their splendor: candles and lanterns leading us into the soft glow of golden light.

We passed by the throne room quickly, the curtains billowed, and the screams echoed down the halls. "Mamma!" the older boy shouted.

Immediately a beautiful woman, the boys' mother, appeared. Her hair was dark, and her beard was elegantly braided across her face. She had the older boy's bright, blue eyes, but the younger's features. "I was so worried!" she cried, pulling us close. "Brynn, I'm so glad you're alright."

The three of us stood trembling as the room shook again, and massive cracks appeared in the walls and along the marble floor. The woman screamed, yelling for someone, again and again.

Tears streamed down my face.

My stomach tied into knots.

"Are we going to die?" I remember asking. I recall wiping my tears away on my sleeve, sniffing, and trying to stay brave.

The younger boy looked at me with sincere brown eyes and reassured me that everything would be alright. He took off his royal ring and slid it onto my ring finger, promising me that it would keep me safe. His dark hair fell against his brow, a reassuring smile dancing across his lips.